


Going Down

by LydiaStJames



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Trapped In Elevator, pynchweek2018
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 04:04:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,975
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15404556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LydiaStJames/pseuds/LydiaStJames
Summary: It wasn’t exactly that Adam was afraid of heights, so much as he didn’t like being suspended in midair thousands of feet above the ground. And it wasn’t exactly that Adam hated Ronan Lynch, so much as he didn’t like outrageously arrogant assholes who were unfairly good looking.But Adam could safely say that these two things combined were not on the top of his list.PynchWeek 2018: “Wait, you’ve liked me for how long?”





	Going Down

**Author's Note:**

> I promised Saachi an elevator fic light years ago; I didn't plan for this to be for PynchWeek, so the prompt is only loosely based, but I happened to finish this in time and figured it fit enough.
> 
> I cannot take credit for the title, that was all ShineALightOnMe. Also a huge thank you to her for being both my beta and sounding board for this, which doesn't sound that difficult until you realize writing smut makes me break out in figurative hives, and thus she had to endure my complaints.

It wasn’t exactly that Adam was afraid of heights, so much as he didn’t like being suspended in midair thousands of feet above the ground.

 

And it wasn’t exactly that Adam hated Ronan Lynch, so much as he didn’t like outrageously arrogant assholes who were unfairly good looking.

 

But Adam could safely say that these two things combined were not on the top of his list.

 

The events of the day had transpired as such:

 

Adam’s friend Gansey had invited him to a house-warming party in his new penthouse apartment. Adam had a date scheduled for later that evening but figured he’d have enough time for both events. (Which was quite fortuitous, really, because Adam had made a rule for himself after his first disastrous year of work, where he racked up an average of 75 hour work weeks and almost had a nervous breakdown, that he had to interact with a human outside of work hours at least two times per week. He supposed that two social events on the same day was bending the rules, but they were also his rules so. Fuck it.) 

 

Adam thought little the first time he entered the elevator because, well, it was just an elevator. You didn’t really worry about them unless they stopped abruptly or thumped or, maybe, when they jumped a little too quick. 

 

So he rode the elevator up to Gansey’s apartment with no issues. 

 

At the party he encountered Ronan Niall Lynch and did not enjoy the experience one bit. In the course of befriending Gansey it had become routine that Adam and Ronan would be paired off in the evening. This never used to be the case back when Gansey and Adam were college roommates, but this was before Gansey started dating Blue and before Gansey had bothered to truly befriend anyone but those in his inner circle. Now, unfortunately, every Gansey shindig felt more like a  _ Richard Campbell Gansey the Third _ shindig.

 

Adam was not interested in playing nice with future politicians, so mingling was out of the question. Pre-dating Gansey, he used to spend his time with Blue, but post-dating Gansey, Blue had to be trotted around to all of Gansey’s new acquaintances. Which left Adam little choice but to interact with Ronan. It was either that or be the loser in the corner who, inevitably, attracted stilted and painful small talk. 

 

Despite being friends with Gansey for almost four years, Adam knew hardly anything about Ronan. He knew Gansey and Ronan had met in high school. He knew Ronan did not go to college, choosing instead to take over his family’s business. He knew Ronan’s favorite word was “fuck” because he said it so much that Adam had found it working its way into his own vocabulary. And he knew that Ronan thought he could pull off leather jackets. (Nevermind that he  _ could _ ; it said something about a man who has the audacity to wear one at all.)

 

And other than that? 

 

Nothing.

 

Which, really, was part of the reason why Adam disliked him: Ronan was an impenetrable wall. Adam thought himself likeable enough, and he’d clearly proven he was a loyal friend to Gansey by attending these nauseating functions, so he didn’t understand why Ronan refused to open up.

 

They did, however, have stupid tiffs all the time. Shallow little things that were somewhat entertaining, but in Adam’s opinion, the sort of arguments that proved they didn’t know each other at all. He was always torn in participating in these arguments, part because it felt childish, but another because it seemed the sort of thing that would forever keep them in their semi-acquaintance slash quasi-enemies standing. After four years he was tired of this. They either should be friends or decide to mutually ignore each other, like normal, healthy adults.

 

So before every outing where Ronan Lynch was set to appear, Adam would tell himself,  _ Not today. Don’t get in argument with him today. Be mature. Be pleasant. Don’t let him rile you up. _

 

And then Lynch would do something or say something that poked at a spot Adam didn’t realize he had. Adam would say something snippy. Ronan would tattle on him to Gansey. Rinse and repeat.

 

Maybe, as Adam rode the elevator up that day, he recited that same mantra in his head.  _ Not today. Be mature. Don’t let him rile you up. _

 

But, unfortunately, Adam was never in control when it came to Ronan Lynch, for the party went exactly as it always did. The button was pressed. 

 

Today, Ronan chose to flick his eyes over Adam’s outfit and ask, “Did you take that look straight from a J Crew catalogue, Parrish?”

 

(If one were to look through Adam’s trash they might understand why this particular button upset Adam. The thing is, growing up poor didn’t give him much knowledge on how to dress himself. How could he? He got hand-me-downs from his father or clothes scavenged from Good Will. And even  _ if _ one could be savvy and find trendy outfits at Good Will, like Blue did, it required time to sort through each rack and try different combinations, none of which Adam had. So, okay, yeah, he got outfit ideas from magazines. Who the fuck cared?)

 

It didn’t help that Ronan looked spectacular that day. He was wearing a charcoal sweater and it was just preppy enough that Adam felt slighted. Part of Adam’s immense dislike for Ronan Lynch was that, until he opened his mouth, he was an utter delight to look at. If he would only...just... _ keep  _ that fucking mouth shut.

 

(See? All Adam did was say ‘fuck’ nowadays, and prior to meeting Ronan, he saved it only for the most rare and necessary moments.)

 

Most times Adam had a good comeback, but this wound cut too personal. So instead, Adam snapped, “I’m not doing this today.”

 

“Why?” Ronan popped what looked to be a stuffed jalapeno in his mouth. “You always seem down to spar.”

 

“Because I’m not in the mood. Because I’m an  _ adult. _ Because I don’t want my day to be spoiled by your petty, childish insults.”

 

“Is this you  _ ‘not doing this today’ _ ? Because it kind of feels like you’re doing it.”

 

“I’m not.”

 

“You called me a child.”

 

“No, I said you’re immature and that you use childish insults.”

 

“Ah. So then, just to be crystal clear, that is you  _ not _ participating in what you have dubbed as  _ ‘this’ _ today.” Ronan dangled the toothpick from his appetizer from his lips and grinned. “You’re doing spectacular.”

 

Adam wanted to kill him. 

 

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t solve his problems. Adam saw that he had three options: he could either ignore Ronan completely and fend for himself at the party, he could leave, or he could try to get past this stupid, shallow argument thing once and for all.

 

The room currently contained Tad Carruthers, Gansey’s coworker who Adam found irritating in a different and yet far worse way than Ronan, so wandering off was simply not possible. The argument had occurred only fifteen minutes into the party, so leaving would mean that Adam couldn’t check off one of his boxes for the week. 

 

“Ronan,” Adam said suddenly, attempting a civil voice. He supposed it must have sounded odd on him, because Ronan immediately raised an eyebrow. “How has life been going lately?”

 

“What?”

 

“Life. How’s it been? The...uh,  _ farm _ been treating you well?”

 

“Parrish. What the fuck?”

 

“What’s your favorite plant to grow?”

 

Ronan must have realized what Adam was attempting to do, because in typical Ronan fashion, he deflected.

 

“Weed.”

 

It poked Adam’s buttons.

 

“God, I fucking hate you sometimes,” Adam said.

 

Ronan smiled, lips stretched too wide. “I know.”

 

Adam looked at his watch. Maybe his date could meet up a little early. One look at that stupid, smug grin in front of him convinced Adam it was worth scheduling another weekly outing to get away from Ronan.

 

So he left. Quite abruptly, with no warning and no goodbye. Perhaps this was why he heard a long groan from behind him, followed by his name being called.

 

Adam didn’t make it to the elevator fast enough to avoid Ronan completely. Despite knowing it was useless, he pressed the ‘Door Close’ button over and over, until he saw Ronan’s hand grasp onto the side of the door. Fuck. Now it wouldn’t close till he left. There was no point at glaring at Ronan, so Adam ignored him instead.

 

“Parrish.” 

 

Adam took a giant step and leaned his back against the wall of the elevator. He looked up at the mirrored ceiling, grateful he couldn’t see Ronan in the reflection.

 

_ “Parrish.” _

 

Adam stuffed his hands in his pockets and continued to ignore Ronan.

 

He heard a huff, then Ronan stepped inside the elevator. The door shut a few seconds later. As they began the descent down to the lobby, Ronan stood directly in front of Adam, arms folded, and glared at him.

 

“Ignoring me, huh?”

 

Adam pulled out his phone.

 

Ronan turned around and began to press the button for each and every floor. Adam made it through six buttons before he broke, swearing at Ronan while he grabbed at his arm to pull him back.

 

Ronan wore an extremely pleased smirk, but it slipped from his lips when the elevator jerked to a sudden stop. The lights flickered. Adam and Ronan both turned to look at the closed doors, waiting for them to slide open.

 

They didn’t.

 

Then the elevator shook and they dropped fast. They couldn’t have been falling for long - likely only a few feet at most - but the suddenness, combined with the tumbling of Adam’s stomach - caused him to stumble back with a very undignified scream. (Thankfully, something equally embarrassing emitted from Ronan.)

 

The elevator didn’t move after that. The lights flickered a few more times, and the door remained shut, but they weren’t swaying or falling.

 

“What the  _ fuck  _ just happened?” 

 

“Is it broken?” 

 

_ “What _ the  _ fuck _ just  _ happened?” _

 

“Lynch, you’re not helping.” Adam shoved himself up from the ground and inspected the elevator buttons. They were all blinking. He lifted a shaking finger to the “Open Door” button and pressed it. Waited. Pressed it again. Waited. 

 

“Jesus fuck.” Ronan was at Adam’s side. There was an emergency call button and he pressed it. “Hey! Your fucking elevator broke!”

 

Adam shoved him away and tried for a politer message. “Uh, hello? Can you hear us? The elevator is broken.”

 

A crackly voice responded a few seconds later. “Sorry to hear the elevator is malfunctioning. How many of you are there?”

 

“Two.”

 

The man asked a few questions about what happened, to which Adam  _ graciously _ left out the detail of Ronan pressing a million buttons, and then told them he would get back to them in a few minutes. Neither man said anything as they waited, so the silence stretched and made the minutes drag endlessly. When a crackle came over the intercom, signaling the attendant’s return, Adam jumped toward it.

 

“Well, folks, I’m afraid we can’t fix the issue in-house. I’m going to have to send out for a tech team.”

 

Adam shushed the incoming remark from Ronan with a pointed finger and asked, “Okay. How long will that take?”

 

“Hard to say… Probably at least an hour for them to get here, and who knows how long to fix it.”

 

“Jesus Christ.”

 

Adam drug a hand down his face. It was starting to get really warm in the elevator. He loosened a few buttons at his collar and cleared his throat. “Is there any way we can get out of here?”

 

“‘Fraid not, gentleman.”

 

Ronan snorted rudely from behind him. “So you’re just completely useless, then. Fantastic. What’s even the  _ point _ of this intercom?”

Adam suddenly didn’t have the energy to correct Ronan’s bad attitude, and quite honestly, he wasn’t sure he  _ wanted _ to. Gansey’s apartment cost an obscene amount of money; how is it that he could pay thousands and thousands of dollars a month and none of it could go toward an elevator that didn’t  _ break down on the twenty-eighth floor? _

 

Twenty-eight floors.

 

The elevator had dropped before. What if it dropped  _ again? _ What if it dropped  _ further? _

 

Adam leaned against the wall and slid down it slowly, until his ass hit the cold marble tiling. He choked on a laugh. The flooring could be  _ marble _ but the elevator couldn’t do its  _ one fucking job? _

 

Oh, God. He was either panicking or had been around Ronan far too much, because the f-word was flowing out of every his every pore. 

 

He blamed Ronan. Yes, that was easier. Ronan Lynch, that sonofabitch. If only he hadn’t pressed every single button. Or, no, better yet, if only he hadn’t followed Adam into the elevator like he was a runaway lover. Or if only he could have been civil for  _ one _ afternoon.

 

Adam dug his fingers into his scalp and looked up at Ronan through his bangs. He was going for a glare fit to intimidate the devil, but based on the way Ronan’s eyes narrowed, Adam missed the mark.

 

“You okay there?”

 

“What do  _ you _ think?” Adam spat. “I’m stuck in an elevator for God knows how long, with  _ you _ of all people. I had plans for today that didn’t include dying.”

 

Ronan, to his credit, didn’t fire back. He rubbed the back of his head, almost as if embarrassed, and took a seat on the floor opposite Adam. The elevator was large enough that they could both stretch out their legs if needed, which Ronan took advantage of but Adam did not. He felt safer having them pressed close to his chest.

 

“We won’t die,” Ronan said eventually.

 

Right on cue, the elevator rumbled. No drop occurred, but it was enough to jolt Adam’s heart. He wrapped his arms around his knees and buried his head into them; he thought about chanting words under his breath, but Adam wasn’t a religious man and wasn’t struck with the desire to be one even when paralyzed.

 

Instead, Adam dug his fingernails into his skin, hoping it would distract him. The lights flickered. He pressed harder.

 

“Jesus, you need to calm down.”

 

“Fuck you,” Adam whispered. It came out a lot less intimidating than Adam hoped on account it felt like his entire throat was suddenly closing. 

 

“I’m not trying to be an ass, I’m serious. You’re-- Dude, you’re breathing a lot. I think you might be hyperventilating.”

 

Ronan was right, he was having trouble breathing. God, he didn’t think he was afraid of heights. Or was it being trapped in a small space that bothered him? Both. It was both.

 

“Can you-- for once -- in your life -- not be a dick -- and just talk -- about something?” Each pause was a small inhale of breath.

 

Ronan looked like Adam had suggested they defile a statue of Mary. He should have known better. Adam dropped his head to his knees again and began counting under his breath, desperate for any distraction.

 

“I don’t have a favorite plant to grow, because I don’t really grow plants.”

 

Adam jerked his head up. “What?”

 

Ronan was looking at his phone and for a moment Adam thought he imagined him speaking. But then Ronan flipped the phone to show him a picture of cows. Tens of them. A second later Ronan flipped to another picture, a close-up shot of a goat. Its giant tongue was lolling, and a trail of saliva dripped from it.

 

“I mostly do livestock.”

 

Adam paused. “...Okay.”

 

“You asked me what my favorite thing to grow was earlier.”

 

“Oh. Right.”

 

They fell into an extremely awkward silence. To his credit, Adam  _ did _ realize that Ronan was attempting small-talk to distract him from the situation. It was…  _ nice. _ And maybe if they were back at the party he’d be more grateful, but a few pictures were not going to distract him from the fact that he was stuck in a cage of doom.

 

Ronan clearly knew this, at least, because he breathed in deep and tried again. “How’s your job going? You still at that engineering firm? Rainier?”

 

“Oh. Uh, yeah. It’s actually a construction company, but I’m one of their engineers. So. Close...enough.”

 

Ronan gestured for him to continue. Adam barely knew what to say, he was too surprised Ronan remember what he did for a job, let alone  _ where _ he worked. Eventually he said, “It’s… going good. We’re working on a project for the city; making the transit stations more eco-friendly.”

 

Ronan bit at the edge of his thumb. For a moment, it looked as if he were going to say something more, but nothing ever followed.

 

When it became apparent he was out of conversation topics, Adam sprung up from the floor and pressed the intercom button again. Before he could even ask, the attendant said, “Sorry boys, still working on getting ahold of them. I’ll let you know when I have an update.”

 

Adam sunk back to the floor, hands digging through his hair.

 

“I don’t think you’ll be making your plans,” Ronan said.

 

“Great.”

 

“What were you going to do?”

 

“Not your concern,” Adam snapped, and it was instantaneous. Years of arguing had bred habits in him that were so deeply rooted it felt like a second skin to fight with Ronan.

 

“Hey man,  _ you’re _ the one who was begging me to distract you.”

 

God, he was right. Adam gnawed on his lip and said, “I had a date, actually.”

 

Ronan’s face went through a series of emotions: a frown, then a sudden smirk, and then the moment Adam expected Ronan to follow with a callous jibe, his face turned contemplative.

 

“First time, or you been seeing each other for some time?”

 

“God, are you so terrible at small-talk that you have to imitate Gansey to do it?”

 

This clearly hit a button, because Ronan snapped, “You ever heard the phrase ‘Beggars can’t be choosers’? Or, ‘Don’t bite the hand that feeds you’? Or--”

 

“Fine, I get it, I get it.” 

 

The truth was, Adam was hesitant to talk about this subject in particular. Being that he and Ronan existed solely on a shallow level this whole time, dating hadn’t exactly come up. Which meant Adam’s sexuality hadn’t exactly come up. And Adam’s date was with a man and he wasn’t sure how Ronan would respond to that.

 

Surely if he was friends with Blue, Ronan wasn’t a glaring homophobe. But they were two men stuck in a tiny elevator together for God knows how long. Adam didn’t have the strength to deal with Ronan’s reaction, even if the worst that happened was it got awkward.

 

Still, Ronan was right. Adam was the one who wanted small-talk, and the man was trying…

 

“First date,” Adam said finally. “Someone from work, different department. My friend set us up.”

 

“What’s she like?”

 

Adam bit his lip. “Um. Seems nice. What about you?”

 

_ “Nice? _ You were going to go out with this chick and she’s just  _ ‘nice’? _ ” Ronan held out an open hand. “I want to see a picture.”

 

“I don’t have one.”

 

“She doesn’t have a social media account?”

 

His date actually had a decent following on Instagram, but there was no way in hell Adam was sharing that. So he fibbed. “Nope. Keeps a low profile.”

 

Ronan hummed and pulled back his hand. “I knew there were more of us.” He fiddled with his phone. “What’s her name?”   
  


_ “Why?” _

 

“Your company has everyone’s picture on the website.”

 

Adam blanched. Fuck. “How do  _ you _ know that?”

 

Ronan waved his hand around, as if that actually explained anything. “So what’s her name? Come on. I haven’t got all day. Or, well. I might.  _ Or _ it could be my last moment on this earth, and what kind of person would you be to deny me my final request?”

 

“ _ Yeah, _ I’m not telling you.”

 

“Parrish, come on.”

 

“No.”

 

“Why not?”

 

Adam was starting to lose his cool, not in the fun,  _ oh, ha ha I’m having a panic attack because we’re stuck in an elevator that could collapse in any moment _ sort of way, more in the,  _ I’m going to murder someone _ fashion. 

 

“Why do you even  _ care?” _ He burst.

 

“Because we’re stuck in a fucking elevator and I’ve got nothing better to do!” Ronan shouted back. “Because you fucking asked me to distract you!”

 

“Yeah, right. You just want to know so you can judge my date and have more fodder to make fun of me.” Adam did a poor imitation of Ronan, trying to lower his voice to the same gravely pitch as the man across from him.  _ “Parrish, I didn’t realize you liked dogs.” _

 

“Jesus, is that what you think of me?” Ronan tugged off his leather jacket and threw it to the corner of the elevator in a huff. “I wouldn’t say shit like that.”

 

“How is that  _ any _ different than what you said to me earlier about my clothes?”

 

“Jesus fucking Christ. I was just trying to--” Ronan gestured to Adam’s outfit. “It’s nice, okay? I was just trying to say it looked nice.”

 

Adam snorted. “Well, you suck at giving compliments.”

 

“I fucking know that, okay?”

 

Ronan chose a spot on the floor to glare at and said nothing more. Adam spared him a quick glance but convinced himself to ignore Ronan’s pity-party. But then something shifted. Ronan’s expression - no, it was his eyes, really - lost their fury. Like the spark had gone out. Ronan’s eyes, a bright ice blue, were like looking into the flash of a camera at all times, blinding if you stared too long, but now Adam was left with the after-shock of it all. He kept staring at Ronan, hoping to see the traces of the camera flash burned into his retina, but now it awas muted.

 

Had Adam’s comments actually hit a sore spot for Ronan?

 

Adam looked at his watch. God, so little time had gone by. He couldn’t survive hours and hours of silence - it was too crushing. 

 

“Mark,” Adam said quietly. “Mark Wilson. He’s in the marketing department.”

Ronan’s eyebrows knitted. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

 

Adam sipped a breath of air like a shot. “My date’s name.  _ His… _ name. It’s Mark Wilson..”

 

And there it was: like clockwork, Ronan’s face transformed. He looked a little like Gansey did when Adam told him he was bi: surprise, followed by an obvious and immediate slip into faux-acceptance. To Ronan’s credit, his expression was mildly more convincing than Gansey at least. 

 

After a very long pause, Ronan said, “Oh. That’s chill.”

 

Adam rolled his eyes.  _ “Thanks.  _ Glad to be  _ chill.” _

 

“No. Fuck.” Ronan squeezed his eyes shut and sighed. God, was he  _ blushing? _ “I’m being… stupid about this. I’m not-- I’m better at this, normally, it’s just that… uhhh--”

 

Adam waved him off. “It’s fine. Can we talk about something else?”

 

“No, just-- Wait.” Ronan licked his bottom lip, straightened his posture, and, in a far-too dignified sounding tone than the situation called for, said, “I won’t judge because I’m gay.”

 

Adam couldn’t help it: he reared back his head in surprise. 

 

“Yeah. I’m gay.” Ronan’s back was still stiff. When Adam raised an eyebrow at him, Ronan added, “Uh, super gay.”

 

Adam knew Ronan was nervous - the poor man looked like he’d been hit by a truck or something - but he couldn’t help but play with him. “ _ Super  _ gay?” 

 

“Normally gay,” Ronan said quickly, which he then immediately followed by shutting his eyes in obvious embarrassment. He sucked his lips into his mouth and said, “God.” 

 

For possibly the first time in their entire relationship, Adam’s lips split into a wide grin. Teeth and all. When he realized this, Adam lowered his head to hide the smile, but Ronan must have noticed, because he suddenly slumped down to the ground and groaned. “You’re never going to let this go, are you?”

 

“When you say  _ super gay, _ does this mean you’re just like,  _ really, REALLY  _ into guys, or is there an element of superpowers going on?”

 

“Har. Har.”

 

“I’m just trying to get to the bottom of this mystery.”

 

Ronan chucked his phone at Adam, which was saying something about his feelings on the matter that he dared throw a device worth thousands of dollars when the floor was made of marble.

 

The lights flickered again in the elevator. This time, one of them stayed off. The lighting was reminiscent of a romantic restaurant, but given their situation, it was simply eery.

 

“Okay, more, more,” Adam said suddenly. “Can you tell me about the farm?”   
  
Ronan did, but it was clearly taking it out of him to offer any conversation. Or maybe there just wasn’t much to say about the farm. Either way, the conversation finished only a few minutes later.

 

Adam tried to think of questions to ask, even though he already knew the answers to most of them. _How did he meet Gansey?_ _What did he think of Blue?_ When finished, he tried thinking of absurd questions. Ones that were probably way too personal to ask but all decorum went out the window in the current situation. _When did you know you were gay? Are your parents okay with it? What was your best date?_ The latter Ronan answered, though awkwardly and with few words, but Adam was smart enough to accept anything he got.

 

Eventually, though, they fell into silence and started looking at their phones. Adam didn’t have much battery left, so he sent Mark a quick text to reschedule their date. He didn’t know what Ronan was doing, but based on the way he was furiously tapping his screen, he was probably playing games.

 

An hour into their endeavor, the attendant’s voice filtered through the intercom. “Alright, gentlemen. The crew is here, but I don’t got a lot of good news. They said it’s pretty complicated. You’re probably looking at a few more hours.”

 

Adam pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to breathe.

 

“Are we  _ safe _ ?” Ronan asked.

 

“Seems to be. I think it’s an electric failure. Normally we can see a video of what’s going on in there, but it’s down. Are the lights still going in and out?”

 

“One is completely gone.”

 

“Huh. Well, I know it must be frustrating, boys, but electric is good. Just means some wires got crossed somewhere. Shouldn’t be a safety issue.”

 

Adam thanked the man and the elevator became silent again. Ronan stretched himself out on the floor, arms hooked behind his head and legs propped up on the wall. 

 

“What are you doing?”

 

“Sleeping. Don’t look at me like that, what the fuck  _ else _ are we supposed to do?”

 

Adam shook his hands out, pulled each knuckle, and held in a whine. “Can’t we just -- Let’s just keep talking about something. Anything. I don’t care if it’s stupid.”

 

Ronan shrugged. He didn’t even bother to open his eyes. “That’s about all I got.”

 

“We could play a game.”

 

One eye popped open, looking dubious. “With  _ what? _ We’re a little limited here.”

 

Adam pulled out his phone. He didn’t have any games, of course, because any free time he had was spent on re-checking work emails and putting out the inevitable fires. (Or watching episodes of  _ Queer Eye _ because he maybe considered Karamo his own, personal therapist. Also he had a crush on him. Big deal.)

 

“Fine,” Adam said. He pushed his palms into his eyes. “I’ll just sit here.”

 

Ronan exhaled loudly, in that way people do to make it completely obvious it’s a ruse and that they’re just annoyed with you. He sat back up and said, “Okay Parrish. I’ll play a game with you.”

 

Adam’s skin prinkled at the suspicious tone Ronan used. Quickly he said, “Oh, God, I take it back--”

 

“Truth or dare?”

 

“Absolutely not.” Ronan immediately fell back to the ground and shut his eyes. Adam tugged at his hair and said, “Okay,  _ fine. _ Truth.”

 

Ronan sat back up with an evil smirk. He twiddled his thumbs together and squinted his eyes at Adam, and it was utterly stupid but so un-Ronan like that Adam had to disguise his laughter by adding rolled eyes.

 

“Have you ever had a crush on Gansey?”

 

“No,” Adam said. Ronan shot him a look that was two parts  _ you’re-so-full-of-shit _ and one part  _ how-does-Ronan-look-sexy-and-pissed-and-the-same-time? _ “I’m serious, I haven’t.”

 

“But he looks like, well. You know.”

 

“I do know,” Adam agreed. “But I was dating someone when I first met him, and by the time I started getting desperate, he was already with Blue.”

 

_ “Desperate?” _ Ronan echoed.

 

Adam avoided the topic of his year-long celibacy by adding, “I’m going to assume by your question that you had a giant crush on him at some point.”

 

Ronan shrugged, clearly not ashamed by it. “I’ve known him since 14 and I was a closeted gay kid. Who else was there?”

 

“Still. You think he’s  _ good looking,”  _ Adam teased.  _ “Gansey. _ ”

 

“I think lots of men are attractive.”

 

“Oh yeah? Who else?”   
  


Ronan looked away. “Afraid I already answered one of your questions, Parrish. Now it’s my turn. Truth or Dare?”

 

Adam couldn’t imagine what sort of dares they could possibly do in the elevator, which probably made it the safer choice. And yet he found himself going for “Truth” again. Maybe it was because he never got to be like this with Ronan - bantering instead of bickering, getting to know each other instead of putting up walls. Adam was willing to share a bit of himself with Ronan if it meant he got a little piece of Ronan in return.

 

Ronan didn’t need to think about his question. He immediately asked, “How desperate are you?”

 

And just like that, Adam regretted his choice. “Excuse me?”   
  


“You know what I said. How desperate are you?” 

 

“I don’t even know how to answer that. I’m serious. How am I supposed to define desperation? By months celibate?” Adam hoped Ronan would realize the absurdity of the question, but mostly because he did  _ not _ want to admit how long it had been.

 

Ronan seemed to concede this point and twisted his lips in thought. “No, celibacy can be meaningless when it comes to desperation. Are you like, Tad Carruthers-level desperate?”

 

“God, no. Never.” 

 

“Okay, so who would you be willing to bone to alleviate your…” Ronan trailed off, gesturing in the vague direction of Adam’s body. “Frustrations. Your date tonight?”

 

“Um. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s a blind date so I don’t know if I’ll be attracted to him.”

 

“But if you are?”

 

“Then yeah, of course.” Ronan looked surprised by this for whatever reason. Adam just shrugged and said, “I don’t really buy into that whole,  _ no-kissing-on-the-first-date _ shit. If I’m attracted to the person, and they’re into me, why not?”

 

Ronan went oddly silent at his confession. Adam wondered if he was being judged for it and his stomach twisted oddly at the thought. Why would he care what Ronan Lynch thought of his views on casual sex? Ronan Lynch was always an asshole. Now Adam could add that he was some sort of slut-shamer, too.

 

As disappointed as Adam was, he didn’t want the conversation to end. They were still stuck in an elevator for God knows how long, and this stupid game was, admittedly, helping keep Adam’s mind off the situation.

 

“So… I answered… My turn to ask a question.” Ronan was still silent, so Adam pressed on. It was easy to think of one, since Ronan had evaded it earlier. “Besides Gansey of course, who are you attracted to?”

 

Adam’s prodding knocked Ronan out of his silence. He glared at Adam and said, “You didn’t ask me what I wanted, Parrish. I pick ‘dare’.”

 

“Okay. Then… I  _ dare _ you to tell me who you think is attractive.”

 

Ronan rolled his eyes. “You’re a little shit.”

 

“What’s the big deal? I just want to know your type.”

 

_ “Why?” _

 

Good question. Adam told Ronan it was out of curiosity, but it wasn’t exactly true. It’s just-- well. He’d established that Ronan was unfairly good looking. And now he knew he was gay. Was it so wrong to wonder if he was interested in anyone in particular, or what kind of guy turned Ronan on? 

 

“I don’t exactly have a type,” Ronan said eventually. “I’m not-- I’m not really…  I don’t know. Anyone. Any man is fine.”

 

Adam was confused at Ronan’s descent into a nervous wreck. It was a simple question, right? He wanted more, so he said, “Should he be taller or shorter than you?”

 

Ronan sighed. “Shorter, I guess.”

 

“What eye color?”

 

“Can we not do this?” Ronan snapped. “I’m not going to play fucking ‘guess who’ with you all evening. It doesn’t matter who I fucking like!”

 

Adam was taken aback by his sudden anger and met it head on. “I didn’t ask you who you  _ liked _ , I just asked who you were attracted to. It’s not a big deal, Jesus! Why do you have to make everything a battle?”

 

“Why do you always have to be so nosy?”

 

“Forgive me for wanting to get to know you!” Adam was royally pissed off now. He stood up from the floor and buzzed the intercom, wanting to get an update. He pressed the button over and over again, willing all his anger to transfer into the pad of his fingertip, as if he might be able to jump-start the elevator himself.

 

Unfortunately, he wasn’t delivered any good news. The operator told him the technicians needed to run back to the office for a replacement part, meaning it would be another hour before they’d back to continue their work. Adam’s anger got the better of him and, in a moment of weakness, he slammed his fist into the wall.

 

“Dude, you need to fucking chill.”

 

“How?” Adam leaned against the wall and hit the back of his head against the metal wall a few times. “You’re being a jackass, like usual, so talking is out of the question, and in case you didn’t notice, we’re stuck in a small, enclosed room. Not a lot to do.”

 

“Just, like, scan your phone or something.”

 

Adam wanted to throw said phone at Ronan for being so casual about the situation. “Can’t. Don’t have a data plan.”

 

Ronan’s expression told Adam  _ exactly _ what he thought about that, but whatever. It wasn’t Adam’s job to explain the effects of growing up poor; it didn’t matter how much money Adam made now, he’d never be able to spend money on shit that felt frivolous. 

 

He began to pace the small space of the elevator instead. Ronan watched his movements so carefully that Adam felt like the ball in a tennis match. 

 

“If you really want to be distracted we could always--” Ronan abruptly stopped his train of thought. “Nevermind.”

 

Adam paused his pacing and looked down at Ronan. He was pinching the bridge of his nose and muttering something under his breath.

 

“Just tell me.”

 

“I said ‘nevermind.’”

 

“Okay, well, we’re stuck in this elevator for another hour at minimum, which means you can either tell me now, or listen to me bug you about it for an hour.” Adam sat down on the ground, legs crossed, and knocked his knee into Ronan’s leg. “Come on, Lynch. I’m desperate.”

 

Ronan looked down at their touching legs, then back to Adam’s eyes. It was only then that Adam realized what’s he’d said:  _ I’m desperate.  _ Fuck. Hadn’t they  _ just _ had a discussion about what that phrase meant for Adam?

 

“Oh, uh--” Adam paused to laugh the awkwardness off, but what came out was closer to a giggle and it definitely just made it worse. “I just meant--”

 

Ronan suddenly blurted out, “You’re-- On it. The list.”

 

“Huh?”

 

Ronan cringed. It was horrifically endearing, that asshole. Couldn’t even look embarrassed without being sexy.

 

He avoided Adam’s gaze and picked at a thread on his jeans. “You asked me earlier who was my type…”

 

_ You’re on it. The list. _

 

Oh.  _ Oh! _ Adam sucked his lips into his mouth to hide the grin that threatened to spread across his features. Ronan Lynch thought he was attractive. _ Ronan Lynch, _ who looked like he could grace the cover of a romance novel with his baby blues and cheekbones and thick eyelashes.

 

Adam suddenly realized he was being a little rude by remaining silent. Common etiquette required he share the mutual feelings he had for Ronan’s face, right? Right. Totally. He didn’t trust himself to casually drop the sentiment into the conversation, however, especially not when his brain was screaming,  _ YES, YES ME TOO, AGREED, _ so he compromised with what felt like a more appropriate response.

 

A joke of deflection.

 

“You’re passable, too. I guess.” 

 

Ronan didn’t seem phased by Adam’s joke. He just rolled his eyes and cuffed Adam lightly on the back of his head, muttering about what a dick he was.

 

They fell into silence. It felt more comfortable than the previous pauses in conversation, but Adam hated it all the same. He was suddenly very aware that he and Ronan were sitting quite close, and that they were stuck in a very tiny room for the foreseeable future, and that they both found one another attractive.

 

And that Ronan looked really fucking good in that sweater. 

 

Which made Adam think about what Ronan would look  _ out _ of the sweater.

 

Oh, God.

 

Ronan was looking at him, like,  _ really fucking looking,  _ as if he could read Adam’s mind and knew how dirty his thoughts were getting. But if he had any inkling of Adam’s desires, Ronan didn’t look displeased by it. His gaze was hard and hot on Adam’s skin. 

 

He couldn’t take Ronan looking at him like that - combined with the vivid fantasy he conjured only moments ago, the pleasant heat in his groin was becoming dangerously close to turning into something he’d have a harder time hiding.

 

Adam cleared his throat. “Well, um, we have another hour to kill. What next?”

 

“We could make out.”

 

Adam wheezed out a surprised laugh. Okay, no, it was definitely a giggle. A nervous, fucking giggle that, when combined with a quick inhale of breath, resulted in an embarrassing spectacle.

 

Ronan barely even blinked. Oh, God, he wasn’t joking.

 

It took Adam probably .002 seconds to decide. 

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

Ronan rubbed a finger under his nose, straightened his shoulders, and said, “Chill.”

 

They sat starting at one another. In silence. And not in a sexy way.

 

Then they both spoke at the same time.

 

“So do you wanna--”

 

“Should I just--”

 

“Oh, you can go,” Adam said quickly.

 

“Go?” 

 

“Talk?” Adam paused. “Or, like, you can just...go...when you’re ready. That sort of ‘go,’ I guess.”

 

It was so insanely awkward that Adam was about to regret it. But Ronan just went for it, slid his body close and slipped one hand under Adam’s neck in one ridiculously sexy, fluid motion, and then they were kissing. 

 

It’s was a little bad at first because Adam didn’t know  _ how  _ to kiss Ronan. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting. Should they share a few chaste kisses and call it good? Was he allowed to use his tongue? What were Ronan’s feelings on biting? Adam had always found kissing to be more complicated than actual sex.

 

This kissing was a bit mild for his taste. Chaste. Mouths moving together, but more like a dance when he wanted a war. Adam waited, patiently, because he was polite. And Ronan kept brushing his thumb along Adam’s throat and that felt pretty nice. A little too romantic, though.

 

But then, at once, Adam realized who he was kissing.

  
This wasn’t some new guy he had just met, this was  _ Ronan. _ Ronan who gave him shit for  _ everything. _ There was no need to play by the rules.

 

Adam pulled back almost immediately, and he was a little pleased to see that Ronan looked disappointed. 

 

“I’m not saying I want to stop, but I’m going to need more from you,” Adam said. Ronan’s eyebrows knitted. “I’m not interested in this sweet shit.”

 

Ronan scoffed. “Excuse me for starting  _ slow.  _ In case you haven’t noticed, we’re not exactly going anywhere any time soon.”

 

“Yeah, well, you’re making me feel like we’re at a high-school dance. This is the sort of kissing that seniors do when they’re slow-dancing to Mariah Carey, trying not to cry because they’re about to go to colleges in different states. Tender and all that shit. Do you hear Mariah Carey?”

 

Ronan dragged a hand down his face. “This was a mistake.”

 

“No! No. It’s just… Can I just show you?”

 

Ronan gestured to his open face and said, “Knock yourself out.”

 

Adam wet his bottom lip. God, what was he thinking? He should have just shut up and let things progress naturally. Or just do what assholes do and shove a tongue in and hope it all worked out.

 

He slid his hand around Ronan’s neck, mirroring what Ronan had done for him earlier, but held a firmer grip, thumb pressing on his throat. “Like this, okay? I like-- A little pressure.”

 

Ronan’s whole body shifted, as if he were cracking his back or hiding a shudder, but he didn’t seem upset. Adam removed his hand and motioned for Ronan to practice on him. His grip was still a little weak, so Adam directed his hand up, toward the back of his neck, and said, “You can pull a little on my hair if it’s easier.”

 

Ronan did. Instantly, Adam felt a surge of heat run down his body and to his groin. His toes curled. It didn’t help that Ronan was looking at him so intensely.

 

“So...can I kiss you now?” Ronan asked.

 

“Huh? Oh. Sorry. Go ahead.”

 

They were still sitting across from one another, so Ronan had to lean in to kiss him. It was better this time, stupidly better, just by Ronan digging his fingers through Adam’s hair. Still, something was missing. He needed more pressure, more body on body, but it was impossible from the way they were sitting.

 

So without breaking the kiss, Adam slid forward, sliding his legs around Ronan. Straddling him, really, though Adam pretended he wasn’t that far gone. Ronan broke the kiss to release a rasped breath of air.

 

Adam bit his lip. “Shit, sorry, I should have asked. Is this okay?”

 

Ronan’s eyes fluttered in a daze. He cleared his throat and said, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, it’s fine.”

 

Adam took it as a good sign. His lips found Ronan’s once again, and finally,  _ finally _ they hit their stride.  _ This _ was what Adam wanted from him, what he had expected: feverish kisses with biting, tongue, and panting. Kissing that mirrored the danger Adam felt when he was gifted glimpses of Ronan’s tattoo. It was heavy breathing and shaking hands and feeling like he was being devoured. 

 

Ronan’s hand, still in Adam’s hair, suddenly tugged down. It exposed Adam’s neck, lengthening it so that Ronan could run his tongue across his Adam’s apple and to his jaw. 

 

“Oh, my God,” Adam whispered. 

 

His hips bucked against Ronan. Ronan inhaled deeply against his neck, a long, smoker’s breath, and then he was sucking at a spot under his jaw. It was unfair how calm Ronan seemed, how easily he was able to breathe, when all Adam could do was barely gasp quick breaths of air as Ronan’s mouth moved up to his earlobe. 

 

When Ronan’s tongue arrived he whispered, “Better?”

 

Adam’s was hard and he knew that Ronan could feel his cock pressing against him. They were too close for him not to feel it. The asshole just wanted to hear Adam  _ say _ how turned on he was.

 

Instead of answering, Adam asked, “What do you like?”

 

Ronan didn’t answer. He went back to kissing Adam, biting at his lower lip, and slipped his hands to Adam’s waist. Ronan pulled Adam’s shirt out of his slacks, separating skin from cloth. He fumbled a bit because he was kissing his way down Adam’s neck at the same time. Eventually the shirt was out and Ronan slid his hands underneath, cupping both around Adam’s waist.

 

“This,” Ronan whispered. His lips were at Adam’s ear again. “I like this. Touching you.”

 

Adam was glad Ronan couldn’t see his face. He didn’t want Ronan see him bite his lips to hide his shudder.

 

As Ronan continued to kiss him his hands ran up and down Adam’s side, then to his lower back. Adam moved with the touches, body arching when Ronan kneaded his fingers into his skin. Distantly, he was aware that this was feeling  _ too _ good. That the heat in his body was building faster than it should.

 

Which was just when he realized he had slid his legs wider and was grinding himself upon Ronan. 

 

They weren’t just making out anymore.

 

Adam broke the kiss and pushed himself off of Ronan. He stumbled awkwardly in his scramble to get away, but soon he was up and standing at the intercom. He smoothed down his hair and made the call. It took longer than usual for the man on the other line to pick up, and while he waited, Adam snuck a quick look at Ronan.

 

Ronan was staring at him. That patented Ronan-Lynch look.

 

Then he ran his tongue across his bottom lip.

 

Adam’s head whipped back around.  _ Jesus Christ.  _ He had to place his hand against the wall to sturdy himself. 

 

“No update, boys,” the voice crackled. “The men are still on their way back with the part. Should be here soon, though.”

 

“Can we at least get an estimate of how long we’ll be in here?” Adam croaked.

 

Adam could hear the click of Ronan’s boots against the marble floor. Soon his hand slid down Adam’s side, starting from his ribcage and ending at his hip. Adam’s eyes fluttered shut as Ronan fingered the elastic edge of his briefs. 

 

“I want to give you one, I honestly do, but I really have no idea. We’re so sorry, boys. It could be anywhere from 30 minutes to several hours.”

 

Ronan stepped forward and pressed them against the wall, his chest to Adam’s back. Adam felt every inch of Ronan against him, from the prickle of Ronan’s scalp on his neck, to the soft cotton of his sweater against his arms, down to the press of Ronan’s erection against him.

 

That press was making it increasingly difficult to concentrate on the conversation at hand. Adam 

hadn’t felt the weight of someone wanting him in months. He’d forgotten what it felt like to have someone desire you. 

 

“Okaykeepuspostedthankyoubye.”

 

Ronan’s lips spread into a grin against Adam’s neck. Ronan’s hands slipped from the elastic band. There was a whine sitting at the tip of Adam’s tongue, but then Ronan pressed his palm back to the front of Adam, his fingers curving up to grip him entirely.

 

“Ronan…”

 

“Is this okay?” Ronan bit down lightly on Adam’s neck.

 

Adam moaned softly in response. Ronan bit him again and said, “Is it? I need to hear you say it.”

 

“Uh, yeah…I like it.” 

 

Adam was going for nonchalance. 

 

It might have worked if wasn’t fucking  _ whimpering. _ Jesus Christ. 

 

Suddenly, Ronan spun Adam around, pushing him into the wall. Hard.  _ Fast learner, _ Adam thought, and then he thought nothing at all as Ronan pressed his lips against his, demanding a response. Their tongues met, exploring the taste of each other. Ronan’s fingers were still stroking Adam’s cock and Adam had never wanted to be out of his pants as much as he did then. Except-- 

 

“Wait, wait, wait,” Adam said. “We’re in an elevator.”

 

“What’s your point?”

 

Adam rolled his eyes. “This isn’t a porno, Lynch. People don’t actually have sex in elevators.” 

 

Ronan pulled off his sweater.

 

Adam sighed. “Fine.”

 

To be fair, Ronan was a man at his prime shirtless. Whatever he wore, his muscles and skin stood out through the material, pressing through with the contours of a Grecian statue. Adam had thought about those muscles often - hell, they were probably the only thing that kept Adam from ripping Ronan’s head off - and now the chance to touch them was too compelling to resist. 

 

Adam took a hesitant step forward, hand outreached, and traced the lines of Ronan’s muscles. One hand traced shoulder to bicep, the other reaching to follow his abs to his hip. 

 

“Holy shit,” Adam breathed. 

 

“You really are desperate,” Ronan muttered, but there was no heart in the insult.  

 

_ No. You’re just perfect, _ Adam thought. 

 

Fully explored, Adam pulled Ronan in and crushed their bodies together. His tongue sought Ronan’s and they kissed, pressing their lips together in abandon. His hips ground against Ronan's , his hardness full and seeking. The friction wasn’t enough, Adam needed  _ more, more, more.  _ His hand reached down, ripping loose the buttons on Ronan’s jeans.

 

Ronan grabbed his hand, stopping him. “No, I’m doing you first.”

 

“What? No, it’s fine.”

 

“Adam.”

 

Adam pulled back to glare at Ronan. “Are you seriously arguing with me right now? I’m trying to get you off.”

 

“It was my idea,” Ronan countered.

 

“Oh, my God, you’re such a juvenile.” 

 

“Jesus Christ…” Ronan unzipped his pants and kicked them off. Then, completing his asshole quota, he put his hands behind his head. “Fine. Blow me away, Parrish. Or-- fuck, you don’t have to blow me. Whatever you want to do is fine. I didn’t mean it like--”

 

“Would you just shut up?” Adam grabbed Ronan’s cock and started stroking it up and down. Ronan’s mouth instantly snapped shut, teeth biting down on his lower lip. “Oh, so this is the key to shutting you up.”

 

“Is this your version of dirty talk?” Ronan hissed. 

 

Adam didn’t bother with a witty response. Instead, he licked his palm and slid it down Ronan’s cock, pulling the skin taut. Ronan’s eyes rolled back in his head. He continued his work, turning his wrist in a circular motion while running his tongue along Ronan’s neck.

 

Ronan came with a sharp intake of breath. He stood there, almost paralyzed, shaking in Adam’s grasp. Adam waited for him to recover, using the opportunity to run his hands down Ronan’s bare back. Next time, he wanted to leave marks on his skin.

 

Wait.  _ Next time? _

 

Before Adam could give that reaction any thought, Ronan was dropping to his knees. He made quick work of Adam’s pants, pulling them down and away so that he could press his lips to Adam’s erection through his briefs. Instinctively, Adam reached down to cup Ronan’s face, his thumb brushing against Ronan’s bottom lip.

 

From below, Ronan paused, looking up at Adam. Waiting. He kissed the side of Adam’s thumb. 

 

Adam slid his thumb into Ronan’s mouth. 

 

Ronan’s eyes fluttered closed as he sucked slowly on his thumb. Adam wasn’t sure what made the situation so erotic but his entire body tensed in anticipation. He didn’t know if it was the realization that Ronan’s mouth would be doing this to  _ him _ in moments, or the look in Ronan’s eyes when they opened: lust.

 

Ronan hooked his fingers into Adam’s briefs and pulled them down. He grabbed Adam’s dick and licked him from base to tip once, twice, and then finally pulled it into his mouth. He sucked, and sucked, and sucked. Legs shaking, Adam laid his hand on the back of Ronan’s neck to steady himself, but he still buckled every time Ronan went deeper. At some point, Ronan reached up and grabbed Adam’s ass, using the pressure to keep him steady.

 

Adam was close; he felt the waves of pleasure quickening as Ronan pushed him over the edge. His grip on the back of Ronan’s neck tightened in warning and he attempted to pull back. Instead, Ronan pulled Adam back to him, hand tightening on his ass, so that he took Adam in fully.

 

Minutes later, when his thoughts slowly returned to him, he cursed Ronan for swallowing him down. No one had ever done that for Adam before and he knew, instinctively, that Ronan had ruined him. 

 

Ronan put his clothes back on and Adam allowed himself to get one long last look at Ronan’s body. Ronan caught him staring and Adam waited for the joke, but nothing came. 

 

Neither said anything at first, both content to sit on the floor, backs to the elevator, and breathe. Eventually, Adam rolled his head to look again at Ronan, surprised to find him already looking back.

 

His heart stuttered. 

 

Adam needed to break the tension.

 

Which is why it surprised him so much when, instead, he found himself asking, “Why is it that we can’t get along unless we’re fucking?”

 

Ronan was silent a beat too long. There was no heat to his words when he said, “We spent half the time arguing, Parrish. Not sure that counts as getting along.”

 

“You know what I mean,” Adam said. He turned his body to Ronan. “Answer the question, Ronan. No jokes. No insults. Why can’t we get along?”

 

Ronan looked down at his hands. He tugged the ends of each finger until they popped.

 

“I thought you were straight,” Ronan said.

 

“What does that have to do with anything?”

 

Ronan exhaled loudly. He lifted one of his legs to a right angle and leaned his elbow on it, avoiding Adam’s gaze the entire time.

 

“I’m not really good at-- I don’t know how to--” He paused to collect himself, breathing in and out slowly. “You just showed up one day, in my life, and I didn’t get any say in it. Gansey took you in, bam, you were part of the group. One minute it was just Gansey and me, the next you were there.”

 

“So it’s a jealousy thing?”

 

Ronan snorted. “No. It’s just-- Fuck. I don’t know. Everything happened so fast. I think if you had been introduced slower then my heart could have adjusted better, but it was zero to sixty. You were just...a lot.”

 

_ You were a lot.  _ Shame curdled in Adam’s stomach. He wanted it out and it exploded from him the only way he knew how, in rage. He spat, “Sorry I was such a disappointment--”

 

“Parrish, just give me a fucking second, will you?” Ronan interrupted. “You weren’t  _ a disappointment _ . You were smart, and funny, and fucking cute, and you knew how to fix cars and how to insult me in multiple languages.”

 

Oh.

 

Ronan stretched out his legs and pressed his palms into his eyes. “But you were straight.”

 

_ Oh. _

 

“This thing we do-- No, this thing  _ I _ do, it’s just-- It’s all I knew how to do. You’re right, I’m like a fucking child. I want something and when I can’t have it, instead of letting it go, I poke at it. Pull your pigtails.”

 

“So you being a dick is your way of flirting?”

 

Ronan shot him a dirty look. “No. Well, sort of. It was me wanting to flirt and trying my best not to, and it came out… all fucked up.”

 

A small smile crept onto Adam’s face. When Ronan saw it he rolled his eyes. “You’re just lucky I didn’t know you weren’t straight. I’m irresistibly charming normally.”

 

“Right.” 

 

“Psh. You can pretend it wouldn’t have worked, but all I had to do was take off my shirt and you were practically begging me to touch my--”

 

“Alright, alright!” 

 

Adam let this new information wash over him.  _ Ronan Lynch had a crush on me,  _ he thought.  _ Does Ronan Lynch  _ still _ have a crush on me? _

 

He needed to know. “Ronan--”

 

And of course, that was when the elevator started working again.

 

Adam supposed it could have been worse. (Had it started to work when Ronan had his dick in his mouth, Adam probably would have screamed.) Still, it completely ruined the moment. As soon as the doors opened, Ronan and Adam were rushed by the elevator crew. Gansey had found out about it somehow and he was waiting on the other side, hair sticking up in every direction and face pale.

 

He hugged both of them tightly, rambling about how scared he was. Adam felt bad for wishing Gansey away, but all he wanted to do was finish his conversation with  Ronan.

 

When the crew was satisfied they weren’t going to press charges and Gansey’s breathing had finally returned to normal, they were finally allowed to leave. Unfortunately, Ronan had slipped off to somewhere unknown.

 

Disappointed, Adam called a Lyft and waited outside.

 

His ride was only a few minutes away when Ronan came out the front door of the apartment building, keys spinning on his finger. He stopped in his tracks when he saw Adam.

 

“Hey,” Adam said. “I thought you left.”

 

“Nah. Just had to find a bathroom. Clean up.” Ronan scratched his temple and looked around. “Fucking… jizz and all.”

 

Adam had a brief and very vivid memory of Ronan swallowing him. Adam didn’t have that to worry about. He flushed. “Oh. Right. Sorry.”

 

Ronan rolled his eyes. “Like I’m going to complain about getting off, Parrish. It happens.”

 

They stood in silence for a moment too long. Whatever roll of truth they had been on from earlier had vanished and in its place was an uncomfortable silence. Adam didn’t know what to do. He would rather argue with Ronan than fake niceties. 

 

Adam’s Lyft driver pulled up on the sidewalk. Ronan put it together quickly and said, “Well, uh, see you around, maybe.”

 

“Yeah. Definitely.”

 

“Maybe you can still make your date,” Ronan added, probably to ease the tension. 

 

“Huh? Oh. No, I cancelled that a while ago. In the elevator.” Adam turned to look at his Lyft driver and motioned that he’d just be a minute. “I've got a free night ahead of me.”

 

Ronan bit his bottom lip. His eyes darted up and around, obviously thinking about something. Adam wanted to ask,  _ Do you still want me? _ but the words were stuck in his throat. It was obvious Ronan did, though, right? The ball was in his court. It was his game to play.

 

And yet he wanted Ronan to make the first move even though it wasn’t fair. Arguably, Ronan had been the one putting himself out there that entire day. He had given Adam an incredible truth, an act of vulnerability, and it was Adam’s job to return it. 

 

But Adam wasn’t used to being wanted, not by someone like Ronan Lynch.

 

He wanted to hear him say it.

 

The Lyft driver was getting annoyed, evident by the way he kept slapping his hand against the door. He cleared his throat.

 

Ronan still wasn’t talking. 

 

Adam gestured to the car. “Well, I better go--”

 

“I could really use a drink,” Ronan said suddenly. “Something to calm my nerves and all.”

 

This time, Adam didn’t hide his smile. He let Ronan see his lips break across his face. “That makes sense. We did just have a harrowing experience.”

 

“Well, since you’re free and all, there’s a bar I like nearby. If you wanted to come. Talk and… shit,” Ronan said, voice mumbled as he bit the edge of his thumb. 

 

“And shit?” Adam stepped close to Ronan, hands reaching to finger the cotton of his sweater. “Jeez, Lynch, you weren’t lying. When you flirt, you’re a natural Casanova.”

 

Ronan scoffed. “Here we go.”

 

Adam kissed him quickly, to shut him up, of course. “Okay. Let’s get a drink.”

 

(And later, when Ronan pressed Adam up against his apartment door and whispered exactly what he’d like to do to Adam now that they weren’t confined to an elevator, Adam decided the bad Lyft review was totally worth it.)

**Author's Note:**

> Fin.


End file.
